


The Lady and the Musketeer

by lostgirl966



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS, AU, Agents of SHIELD, F/M, FitzSimmons - Freeform, musketeer au, mutlichapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-07 16:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14085123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostgirl966/pseuds/lostgirl966
Summary: Jemma was raised to be a lady, but always wanted to be one of the musketeers. When she sees a musketeers named Fitz, she knows that he’ll be her ticket to the life she’s always wanted.





	1. Chapter 1

It was the mid 1700s in France and Lady Jemma Simmons was walking gracefully through the garden behind her family’s mansion towards a small table where her mother sat sipping tea, and talking with a woman Jemma had never seen before.

“Jemma,” her mother Anne said with a soft smile, catching sight of her daughter. “Join us, won’t you?”

 _Well of course mother. You told me I had to._ Jemma smiled with her teeth bared. She’s rather be in the stables, or learning how to sword fight, instead of wearing a corset and eating cakes. However, those were not activities a lady should partake in, according to her mother and father. Jemma had been summed to this tea with her mother, and she had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Jemma curtsied giving their guest a convincing smile and then slipped down onto the small uncomfortable iron seat beside her mother. She was wearing the new blue dress with a high collar her father had brought back for her from his trip back home to London. The Simmons were originally from London. When her father became a politician he had been asked to be a liaison to France. So they moved when Jemma was only 4 years old.

“My you dear are as lovely as they say,” the woman said grinning meekly at Jemma.

“This is Lady Winter,” Lady Simmons explained. “She is here to talk about an arrangement between you and her son.”

Jemma’s eye grew wide as she starred across the teacakes at her mother. “Marriage?” She whispered feeling as if her heart would burst from her chest. How could her parents do this? Marriage was the last thing on Jemma’s mind. There were so many things she still wanted to do with her life. But there was no time to get upset. She had to act the part for Lady Winter.

“Yes dear, what other kind of arrangement would it be?”

“Pardon me,” Jemma smiled. “I must admit I was a bit caught off guard.”

“Well I know my son is eager to meet you,” Lady Winter nodded.

There was another half an hour of pleasantries, which the Jemma hardly paid attention to. All the young woman could think about was running. Running far away from here seemed like the the only way to escape this nightmare.

So as soon as Lady Winter’s carriage rode out of sight, Jemma did just that. She picked her skirt up into her arms and began to sprint across the green lawn. Lady Simmons was calling after her, “Jemma please! Let’s just talk about this!” But there was no stopping now. She had to be by herself for a while, and she knew exactly where she wanted to go.

Jemma entered the stables and scurried to the loft where she had hidden an extra outfit to where when she slipped into town and didn’t want to be noticed. After throwing on the brown dress and using an extra cloth to cover her head, Jemma saddled her horse Peggy and then out the door she rode. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father waving for her to stop. However, she kept riding and nudging the white mare to go faster.

Once far enough into the forest surrounding the mansion, Peggy slowed to a trot. Lord Simmons wouldn’t send anyone after his daughter. He knew about where she was off to when no one was looking, and had done a good job keeping it from his wife. She would not be as understanding about her daughter running off to town to watch the musketeers sparring. Jemma had always wanted to learn, but never had the opportunity, so she just observed over the stonewalls of the palace.

Once inside the large village packed with people on the cobblestone streets, Jemma lead Peggy to a stables where she could leave put her in a stall for a few hours by paying a few coins. Then she made her way towards the palace.

She smiled to herself as she passed all the people on the street. They completely ignored her, so Jemma could do whatever she liked. It was the most freedom that she could obtain, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

Turning down an empty side street between two shops Jemma broke into a run. She could see the wall up ahead. She was almost at the end of the street when the figure of tall man stepped out in front of her.

“Hello darling. Where are you off to?” From behind him two more men appeared grinning menacingly. They all smelled of alcohol and sweat.

“None of your business,” replied Jemma trying it push past them.

But the one who had spoke raised his arm stopping her. “Why don’t you come spend some time with me and my friends.”

“Go stick your head in the mud,” Jemma spat back at him. He began to laugh at her but he wouldn’t be laughing long. Jemma raised her skirt and kicked him in the gut, then began to sprint.

Sadly, the other two men chased after, and were much faster than her. “Come back here,” one said grabbing holding her by the upper arm.

“Let go of me you fat ogre,” Jemma yelled angrily.

“Let the her go.”

The men and Jemma looked up to see a man draped in a tabard of blue with a white cross sown on the chest, and worse a large dark grey hat with a white plume. He was looking at them with eyebrows raised, and sword drawn.

“A musketeer,” Jemma breathed in shock. What phenomenal timing.

“Let the girl go,” the musketeer said again looking slightly amused.

Jemma’s head tilted to one side. He was speaking French, but he did sound like a native Frenchman. Actually, he sounded Scottish.

“Why don’t you make us little man,” the one holding Jemma growled.

The musketeer smiled mischievously. Then without warning he sprung forward and cut one of the men’s leg, and made another small cut on the one holding Jemma’s arm.

Jemma was released and she moved out of reach. She spun around, eager to see what happened next.

“You little-.”

But before he could unleash an insult, the musketeer cut across him. “Now, now, let’s not continue this ridiculousness. Leave now and we’ll forget all about this.” In response the three men drew theirs swords. The musketeer sighed, “Well I guess we’ll just have to do this the hard way.”

All three of the men rushed forward at the same time, however, they would be not match for the musketeer. He spun, he blocked, he sliced and he was victorious in a matter of minutes.

Jemma’s jaw dropped. She had never seen a better swordsman in her life. This man made it look like a graceful dance.

Soon, one man was knocked out, and the other two picked him up and scurried away. The musketeer slipped his sword back into his belt and the turned to Jemma. “Are you alright my Lady?”

She nodded, still feeling a bit stunned. “Uh, yes. I’m fine, thank you.”

“No at all.” He then removed his hat and gave a bow. “I’m Fitz, and I am at your service. However, I do think you would have done well. I saw you first kick,” he grinned.

“Oh, yes... I’ve had run-ins with men like that before,” Jemma shrugged with a smile.

The musketeer called Fitz replaced his plumed hat on his head. “Well if you ever find yourself in trouble again you can find me at the tavern or the inn just down the road.”

“Thank you again,” replied Jemma.

“Anytime,” Fitz replied taking her hand in his. Then after placing a gentle kiss on her hand, his beard tickling her slightly, he continued on his way down the stone street.

All Jemma could do was stand there stunned. He was absolutely perfect. There was no better man to teach her how to use a sword. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to convince him to teach her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma goes to look for Fitz

Instead of staying to try and talk with the Musketeer further, Jemma decided it would be best to head back home. The sun was beginning to set and her parents were sure to be getting worried. So back to the stables and Peggy she went.

Once home, Jemma unsaddled her mare, and let her out into the pasture. She then changed back into her blue dress, and now it was time to face her parents. As she had expected they were waiting in the lavish drawing room.

Lady Simmons stood and placed her hands on her hips. “And where have you been young lady?”

“Just riding mother,” Jemma lied. She tried not to catch her father’s eye as she spoke.

“Riding where?” Lady Simmons asked angrily.

“Anne, please calm down,” her husband insisted. “That’s not the point right now. Jemma’s home, that’s what matters.”

“I’m sorry I ran off like that.”

“Apology accepted,” Lady Simmons said with a sigh. Her anger seemed to subside a bit. “Can we please talk about the arrangement now?”

Jemma slowly nodded and then sat down on the sofa beside her parent’s wooden chairs. “I’m willing to listen.”

“Jemma all I want you to do is think about it. Just consider it. Nothing is decided yet.” Lady Simmons sat down beside her husband and placed a hand on his. “We just think Lady Winter’s son would take care of you, that’s all.”

Jemma sat in silence for a while starring down at her entwined fingers. There were many way to response to this proposal. Finally, she drew in a deep breath and sighed. “I’m willing to meet him. But that doesn’t mean I’m committing to anything.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Lord Simmons said with a nod. He squeezed his wife’s hand, and then stood and walked to his daughter.

Jemma met him in the middle of the room and starred up into her father’s soft eyes. He was much taller than her; so he had to lean down as he gave his daughter a warm hug. “Thank you sweet heart,” Lord Simmons whispered in her ear.

“I’m trying dad.”

“I know you are.”

That night Jemma lay in bed starring up at the canopy of her bed thinking about Fitz. She pictured them sparring, both wearing the blue musketeer uniform. All her life Jemma, had dreamt of adventure and excitement, and becoming a musketeer was the perfect way to do achieve those things. She fell asleep thinking of sword fights, protecting the king, and becoming a musketeer.

* * *

 

The next day Lord and Lady Simmons decided to go to a near by city for the day to purchase some new furniture. This gave Jemma the prefect opportunity to slip back into town to find Fitz. Before leaving, she filled a small draw string pouch with some silver coins. Maybe if he were providing a service he would be more willing to teach her. Fitz seemed very kind and willing to help.

Once Peggy had been placed in the stables Jemma began her search for the musketeer. First place she looked was the inn he had mentioned the day before. No luck. Now it was time to try the tavern. As Jemma walked her stomach was filled with butterflies. Would Fitz accept her proposal? Even if he did, would she be able to hide it from her parents? There were far to many questions to answer now. However, none of these were slowing Jemma down. She knew what she wanted, what she had always wanted.

Finally, into the tavern she stepped. It was loud and smelled of strong alcohol, but Jemma didn’t care. Her dark eyes were too busy scanning the crowded building for that special color of blue. The in the back corner she saw it, the royal blue uniform of a musketeer. There were two sitting at a table set apart from the other patrons. Her heart leapt as she approached, but it soon sank as Jemma realized that neither of the men were Fitz. One was dark, broad shouldered and tall. The other was short and pale.

“Hello,” Jemma said getting the men’s attention. “Do either of you know a musketeer named Fitz?”

They glanced at each other and then back at Jemma. They both looked concerned and even a bit downtrodden. The shorter of the two spoke first. “Who’s asking?”

“My name is… Monroe. Jemma Monroe,” she lied. “Fitz told me I could find him here.”

“Well Jemma,” said the taller of the two. “Fitz isn’t in town at the moment.”

“What do you mean?”

The shorter musketeer sighed. “He’s been discharged from the musketeers until further notice. Someone accused him of creating something to kill the king…”

Jemma stood there for a moment in stunned silence. “Creating something?”

“It’s a long story,” the other musketeer replied. “You’d have to ask Fitz. But just know that all of this business about hurting the King is a load of shit.”

“Where can I find him?”

“He’s gone to stay at an inn on the outskirts of town. It’s called the Dancing Monkey. And I’m Hunter by the way,” the shorter man said. “And this is Mack.”

Jemma curtsied politely before thanking them for the information. “I’ll give him your regards when I see him.”

“Thank you,” the man called Mack said with a curt nod.

Jemma almost ran back to the stables to get Peggy. Some how the accusation against Fitz seem very wrong. She hadn’t known him for very long, but somehow she knew this was all false. He seemed too kind to have done such a thing. After half an hour of riding, Jemma saw a small building with a mill attached. There was a sign hanging above the from door that read "The Dancing Monkey."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma finds Fitz at the Dancing Monkey

Jemma tied Peggy to a post outside of the small inn and then slipped inside the lopsided door. Dancing Monkey was quaint and warm. There were a few tables around a fire where a few people were drinking.

A short man approached Jemma with a kind smile. “Hello, my name in Coulson. Can I set you up in a room for the night?”

Jemma shook her head. “No, but thank you. I was wondering if one of your patrons goes by the name of Fitz.”

“Yes, he’s over there drinking a pint,” the man said pointing towards the wooden table nearest to the fireplace.

There sitting slumped in a hair was Fitz. His face had fallen into a frown as he starred intently down into the cup of alcohol.

“Thank you very much,” she curtsied. Jemma then began walking towards the musketeer hesitantly. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to ask for lessons. However, she was here now, so she may as well inquire if Fitz was all right. She at least owed him that.

“Hello, there.”

Fitz’s blue eyes moved from his drink up to meet her brown ones. “You…” He replied clearly surprised to see her standing before him.

“Me…” she sighed titling her head to one side. “I’m sorry I never introduced myself the other day. I’m Jemma Monroe.”

“What are you doing here?” Fitz asked with eyebrows raised in confusion. He wasn’t his charming self anymore. There was a sorrow that replaced that happy go lucky attitude he’d had before.

“I uh… I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was looking for you in town and I met some other musketeers, Hunter and Mack. They told me what happened, and where you were.”

Fitz drew in a deep breath and sighed. “So you’ve heard that I’m a killer then?”

“I don’t believe a word of it Fitz… Truly I don’t believe you would do something like that.”

“You don’t even know me Jemma.”

She shrugged and smiled shyly. “Somehow I feel like I do. You were very kind the other day so I just don’t believe you capable of something like that.”

Fitz grinned sadly up at her. He indicated for her to sit in the wooden chair beside him. “Thank you dear lady. I can’t even being to express how much that means to me.”

Jemma nodded reassuringly. “Is there anyway I could help?”

“I can’t think of anything kind lady,” replied Fitz with a shrug. “Not unless you’re a miracle worker.” He chuckled sadly as he said this.

In the moment Jemma was torn. She could tell her father about Fitz and see if he could some how help. However, this would require revealing her own identity to Fitz. And yet there might not be anything Lord Simmons could do anyway. It’s not as if a spokes person for England could do a great deal in French matters.

“So why were you looking for me?” Fitz inquired curiously.

“I uhhh… It’s a bit of a long story.”

“Well I’ve got lots of time on my hands,” he smiled on reply.

“I want to learn how to use a sword!” Jemma almost shouted at him as the words spilled from her lips.

Fitz looked slightly taken back and stunned. However, that expression soon faded and was replaced by a charming smile. “Are you sure? That’s a bit of a strange request for a lady to make.”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” She almost shook with anticipation.

Fitz starred into Jemma’s bright eyes. He seemed to be searching for his answer there. Maybe he was trying to read her mind. Jemma immediately began to feel her cheeks burn red.

“Can you come here to this Inn several times a week?”

“So you’ll teach me?” Jemma replied standing to her feet bursting with excitement.

“I don’t see why not,” Fitz grinned up at her. “I think everyone should learn how. Never know when it’ll come in handy. Come back here tomorrow morning and we’ll get started.”

“Oh thank you Sir! Thank you, thank you!” Jemma leaned down wrapping her arms around his neck and giving his cheek a gentle peck on his stubbly cheek.

Fitz laughed loudly as he watched Jemma scurried towards the door. “I’ll be waiting for you Lady Jemma,” he called.

“Thank you Fitz!” She said once again before giving him one last smile before exiting the inn.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jemma has her first lesson with Fitz

The next morning Jemma rose with the sun. She had to be up before her parents woke. Yesterday’s escape to town and the inn has been a success. Today Jemma needed another. So out from under the covers she slipped and ran towards the barn. She saddled Peggy and off she went. The horse’s hooves thundered against the dirt as they galloped along.

Jemma’s long hair flew out behind her as she rode towards what she considered her salvation. It wasn’t long before the Dancing Monkey was in her sights. Near a group of trees behind the inn was Fitz.

Arriving at the tall trunks of the trees Jemma pulled Peggy to a halt and slid from her back with ease. Loosely tying the reins to a low hanging limb so Peggy could graze, she turned to her teacher. “Morning!”

“Someone’s eager,” Fitz chuckled as one of his hands rested on his hip and the other on the hilt of his sword, which was strapped to his waist. He wasn’t wearing his uniform today. Instead, he wore a loose fitting white under shirt and brown pants that matched his leather boots.

“Maybe,” Jemma replied trying to appear calmer than she felt. “I hope you have an extra sword,” she chuckled.

Fitz grinned nodding towards an extra sword leaning against the trunk of a tree. “I figured you didn’t have an extra lying around so I asked the inn keeper if he had an extra. Thankfully, he did.”

Jemma wrapped her shaking fingers around the hilt smiling shyly. She lifted the blade in front of her. Something felt so right about having it in her grasp.

“You hold it well. That’s a good start.”

“I won’t deny that I’ve seen my share of duels.”

Fitz drew his sword from his belt and held it at the ready. “Then it’s time to begin.”

Jemma grinned eagerly. Her destiny was finally beginning.

The two spend the next two hours sparing. Jemma took a few tumbles but always regained her composure quickly. Fitz, after making sure she was alright, informed her that, that was a good quality and usually would take time to learn, but she was already a natural. Jemma felt breathless the whole time, and could hardly stop grinning.

Finally, Fitz leaned against a tree panting and smiling. “You’re off to a good start Lady Jemma.”

“Please, just Jemma,” she laughed.

The musketeer nodded in agreement and returned his weapon to its resting place at his side. “Same time tomorrow?”

Jemma’s heart sank. She knew Lady Winter and her son would be arriving tomorrow morning, and there would be now escape that. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. What time would work for you? I have all the time in the world after all,” he chuckled good-naturedly.

“The next day? The morning after tomorrow?”

“Sounds delightful Jemma! So what made you decide to become a swordsman or swordswoman I should say. Forgive me.”

“I have always wanted to,” she said with a nod. “It’s always been my dream. When I was little I would pretend to be a musketeer and go on adventures in order to save the king.”  
“You have a noble heart Jemma, and I look forward to our next meeting.”

* * *

 

Jemma galloped home with her heart absolutely soaring. The day wasn’t even half over and I had already been the best day Jemma of her life.

However, this feeling of joy and excitement faded the moment Jemma saw a carriage outside her family’s home. It was Lady Winter’s. In haste she lead her mare to the stables and flew to throw her finer clothes back on. As soon as she did, Jemma picked up her skirt and sprinted towards the front door.

She slowed down when she closed the door behind her. Her heart beat like a drum against her chest as she heard the loud singsong voice of Lady Winter in the parlor. Jemma shut her eyes tightly, feeling if she wished hard enough this would some how simply be a bad dream. Sadly, Lady Simmons calling to her was real, and as soon as she turned the corner Jemma would be meeting the man she was expected to marry.


End file.
